A soaring spirit, a falling body

So many stars twinkled in the sky, and she became lost in thought, sitting there alone, not watching TV, not going online. I watched TV, drinking half a cup of coffee, while hers remained untouched. I watched the football game, gasping at the climaxes, and finished watching. She was still the same, her book of Song Dynasty poetry still turned to the same page: "Green leaves and faded flowers." I turned off the TV, sat on the edge of the bed, and looked at her. "What's wrong? Are you crazy?" "You're the one who's crazy." "
Go to sleep,
you go to sleep first,"
I said, putting an arm around her shoulder. We'd fallen asleep like this for years, and she would obediently nestle in my arms, and we'd drift off to sleep together. He didn't move, but pulled my hand away. My head slumped onto the pillow, and he was still sitting on it, a silk robe draped over his body, the blanket covering his legs. I wrapped my arms around her legs, my hands slowly caressing her, reaching towards her lower abdomen. She gasped in surprise. I saw it; she was still wearing the pink lingerie I'd given him, lace, semi-transparent, with a red ribbon flowing below her slightly protruding belly—very sexy. I'd never bought her anything like it, yet she seemed to care so much, liked it so much. She wanted to sleep alone, so she crawled into another blanket. Sharing the same bed but not the same blanket, what was wrong? I forcefully turned her body around. She turned off the light, turned to her side, and held my hands in her chest. I could feel his rising and falling body temperature.
Moonlight streamed in through the window, the flowers outside exuding fragrance. We quietly enjoyed this tranquility.
She finally spoke, "Husband, do you regret it?" She gently bit my finger. "
What's wrong? I'd forgotten. How do you remember? You're not reminiscing about that night's tenderness, are you?" I teased her.
Yes, I don't want to, but it just keeps replaying in my mind. I really can't accept the fact that I've fallen. Sometimes I blame myself, sometimes I accept it—it's a pain from the depths of my soul.
We are all our own angels. Angels who fall to earth experience many breakthroughs. What you can't overcome right now is your own heart. You can pretend this is just an experience. The body moving towards the soul is a high leap, the soul moving towards the body is painful. Sometimes beauty is like snowflakes; in the hands of worldly desires, they melt quickly. What you need is the process.
Yes, when you walked into another space, I was terrified. When you locked me in the room, I was desperate. I hated you. I loved others while still hating you. Later, I found that I couldn't hate you anymore, but my body felt a kind of awakening. I flew, but when the flight stopped, it was a process of falling. Afterwards, hiding in a stranger's arms, I was still restrained and uneasy. I was like a little woman. I was happy when he said I was beautiful. I was intoxicated by his sweet words. He praised every part of my body as angelic, and I was shy and charming. He said I was a butterfly, and I was a butterfly. But he said that dawn would be the end of the world, and to cherish the present. Under his skill, I knew I was beyond redemption.
Yes, I was also conflicted. My heart was in the room. I could feel the tension in your atmosphere shifting to relaxation. When you are alone, you are an independent individual. When you are with someone, you are one person's soul, a sacrifice to another. Actually, it's a sacrifice of an idea. Humans have created many beliefs. What lies beyond beliefs? After breaking through emotions and beliefs, one reaches a realm—a god. What's being replaced is a person's soul; what's collapsing is the person's physical body.
I understand.

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A soaring spirit, a falling body

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